He is Risen
by falafel-fiction
Summary: A month after Charlie's death, Desmond and Locke revisit the Looking Glass station and make a chilling discovery.
1. Chapter 1

**He is Risen****  
**  
**Synopsis:** Three part fic. A month after Charlie's death, Desmond and Locke revisit the Looking Glass station and make a chilling discovery.

**Characters:** Desmond and Locke.

**Authors Notes: **This is another story that I've had in the works for a while now. It began as a theory that I came up with to explain Desmond's visions and Charlie's sacrifice together with some other island mysteries. It is a concept I'm rather proud of. I would love for this to happen on the show, though I accept that it almost certainly won't (though maybe it _should_…we crushed fans need some hope).

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Desmond surfaced in the moon pool and tore the snorkel from his face. His head was whirling, his temples throbbed and his vision was a blur. _This is what happens when you combine diving with heavy drinking_, he told himself. He paddled over to the steel ladder and clambered out of the ocean.

Locke was already on his feet, stripping away his diving gear and surveying the Looking Glass with a curious gleam in his eyes. Desmond looked past him to the blankets that covered the remains of the two women who had been murdered in this station. Locke didn't seem disturbed by the bloodstained floors or the sickly scent of decay that hung in the air. He didn't even shudder at the sight of the bolted door and the flooded room at the end of the chamber.

"Why did you bring me here, brother?" Desmond moaned, squeezing his eyes closed and fighting down a wave of nausea.

"I've explained that to you, Desmond," Locke reminded him. "I brought you here because it is time for you to let go."

Desmond grimaced. An hour ago he had been slumped on the beach, gulping down the wine that he had stolen from Rose and Bernard's tent. Locke had wandered over and asked whether he could share his drink. Desmond had refused, saying that he was polishing off the bottle himself and raising a toast to his good friend who had passed away. His friend who had died saving his life. Locke had mentioned something about how it was over a month now since Charlie had drowned and the time had come for Desmond to make his peace. The next thing he knew Locke was hauling him to his feet and dragging him over to the outrigger.

"I'm not gonna find any peace here…" Desmond muttered, scowling at the tall man standing over him. "You're just gonna make my nightmares worse. You don't know what happened down here, boxman. You've no bloody idea what we went through! You don't understand how this feels!!"

Locke folded his arms and sighed wearily.

"Don't you remember what I told you in the hatch?" he asked, patiently. "Don't you remember what I said to you about Boone?"

Desmond frowned, struggling to recall their conversation.

"He was the kid who died because I was following a vision," Locke explained. "I keep telling myself that Boone was a sacrifice the island demanded. I tell myself that it was supposed to happen and I was just a servant of fate. But not a day goes by that I don't question the part that I played in his death. He was my friend. He trusted me. He was young and brave. He was a good kid who didn't deserve to die. But that is what happened, Desmond. I failed to save him."

Locke hissed through his teeth, his body tensed with an enduring frustration. He came to sit beside Desmond on the edge of the pool.

"Don't tell me I don't understand how you feel…" he said, tightly.

Desmond swallowed, regretfully.

"I'm sorry, brother…I remember what you said. How could I forget? That was the night you banged on the hatch door, right? You might have failed to save your friend, but you wound up saving my life..."

"And then you saved mine," said Locke, smiling philosophically. "And you saved Charlie for as long as you could. It turns out that you were right to save him. Charlie died in the act of saving your life. When you think about it, Desmond, it all connects. This was all supposed to happen…"

Desmond clenched his teeth, shaking his head.

"Charlie wanted to sacrifice himself for Claire and Aaron, not for me! _That_ was the vision. The helicopters were supposed to fly them away to safety. But they haven't come, boxman! They haven't come!"

Desmond held his cringing face between his palms, kneading his hair with trembling fingers. Since Charlie's drowning the flashes had stopped, but his final vision hadn't come to pass. There had been no rescue. Not for Claire and her baby. Not for the rest of Charlie's friends. Nothing but a ship of armed strangers whose only interest was in the island, not the people stranded on it.

This was why Desmond couldn't come to terms with Charlie's death. He felt like he had broken faith with his friend. When he had burdened Charlie with the mission that would take his life, he had offered him this one consolation, this one solemn promise that his sacrifice would ensure the safety of his loved ones. Why else would Charlie have submitted to such a terrible fate?

He glanced towards the locked door of the coms room. The shadowy sea was rippling against the window, sparkling as it caught the light from the main chamber. Desmond felt like Charlie's spirit was still trapped behind that door, suspended in its prison of water and metal. His soul would forever be drowning and suffering until it knew that Claire and Aaron were in a safe place.

"Charlie didn't want to die for nothing," Desmond said flatly. "Those people back at the beach…they don't understand what he went through for their sakes. They think it was an accident. _'Poor little Charlie'_ they'll say, '_He was always getting himself into scrapes'. _They don't know what he did.Not even Claire or Hurley get it. They were the ones who cared for him the most, but they never saw the man he truly was. Charlie was a hero and I'm the only one who saw it…"

Locke raised his eyebrows, intrigued by this claim.

"Oh so you think you're the only person that knew who Charlie was?" Locke shook his head, incredulously. "Tell me, Desmond, did you know that when we first crashed here Charlie was a heroin addict?"

Desmond opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"I didn't know…" he conceded. Sometimes he forgot that he had only known Charlie for a month and during that time they had seldom talked about their past lives. "What difference does it make? He was a good man!"

Locke shrugged. "Maybe he was in the end. But when Charlie came to this island he was just a mixed up kid, very insecure about himself. He had made some bad choices and lost his way. He didn't take drugs for pleasure. He took them to fill a hole inside himself. I was the one that convinced him to quit. Giving up his stash was Charlie's first offering to the island. In return the island gave him a sense of hope and salvation. It gave him a family to love and care for..."

"…and then the island _killed_ him." Desmond gave a cynical snort. "What a beautiful story, hey? Almost a fairytale."

Locke sighed. "Even with his love for Claire and Aaron, I don't think Charlie was ever truly content. He was so precious and possessive about them. He could never do enough for them. In the end I think the island gave Charlie the chance to die for them so that he could finally be at peace."

"You're wrong, brother!" Desmond insisted. "Charlie wanted to live! He was hoping to be rescued along with the rest of us. Who are you to say what Charlie was feeling? A whole month he had this hanging over his head. You weren't even there! You were off in the jungle blowing things up. So don't pretend that you cared or even _knew_ about what was happening to him."

"Oh, I knew that Charlie was in danger," said Locke, hastily correcting him. "I probably knew before you did."

Desmond squinted. "What are you talking about?"

"Boone told me," he explained. "The day following the hatch implosion I saw Boone in a vision and he helped me to save Eko. There were other things that he showed me. He hinted that there would soon be trouble for Charlie, Claire and the baby. That's why I protected Charlie when we went after Eko. I told him to go back to Claire. When he wouldn't I just made sure that he didn't go into that cave. Charlie wanted to save Eko from the polar bear just like he wanted to save Claire from drowning. But I sensed he would have been killed in the attempt."

Desmond remembered that day. He remembered waking up naked in the jungle. His flashes had started, but he had yet to experience a vision of Charlie's death, though he had seen Locke making a speech.

"Don't tell me I don't care," Locke continued. "I would have protected them. I would have kept their family together. But then I saw you pitching that rod on the beach and saving them from the lightning. I realised that _you_ had been appointed their protector, not me. I had other work to do..."

"Some bloody protector," Desmond muttered, shamefully. "I failed to save Charlie from his fate and now Claire and Aaron are all alone and still stranded on this island. This whole thing is a tragic mess…"

"Maybe so," said Locke with a solemn nod. "But it's time for you to clean it up, Desmond. Let's get this over with."

Locke rose and strode towards the coms room, beckoning him to follow. Desmond remained where he was and watched in shocked disbelief as Locke stood before the door and peered in through the porthole.

"For Godsake man!" he yelled. "Don't look in there!"

Rather than listening to him, Locke moved his face closer to the glass.

"Desmond, you're gonna want to come and see this…"

Desmond shook his head, closing his eyes. He didn't like to think what he would see if he looked into that room. Some ruined skeletal shape floating in the saltwater. That wasn't Charlie. His friend was gone. Desmond wanted to remember him as the perky Englishman with the lively eyes and the sunny smile. Not whatever was darkening and shrivelling in that flooded room.

Suddenly Locke was grabbing him under his armpits and dragging him across the chamber. Desmond protested and struggled, but the old hunter was strong and he was sluggish from the wine that he had consumed. Locke slammed him into the door, holding him in place before the porthole.

"Open your eyes…" Locke instructed, firmly.

Desmond kept shaking his head. He raised his hand and pushed against the cool window. He remembered pressing his palm to Charlie's hand on the other side of the glass. It had been like touching his reflection in a mirror. He had seen Charlie's death so many times that it had begun to feel like his own. Desmond felt like a Siamese twin separated from his brother who had not survived the surgery. He had been freed from everything but his shame and loss.

He realised that Locke wasn't planning to release him until he obeyed. He swallowed and reluctantly allowed his eyes to flutter open.

He stared into the undulating water and saw nothing. His eyes flitted from the ceiling to the walls to the floor. Nothing at all. No body, no bones, not a trace of the man who drowned in there. The room was empty.

"He's not there!" Desmond spluttered. "Why isn't he there?!"

Locke tilted his head, his beady eyes twinkling.

"_He's not there for he has risen_…" Locke said mysteriously.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" he demanded.

"Oh…it's a line from the Bible. When Mary found the tomb of Jesus empty there was a young man in white who told her…"

Desmond grabbed Locke by the front of his shirt.

"I know where it's from, you smarmy bastard! I want to know what you've done with his body! What are you trying to do to me?!"

"I haven't done anything, Desmond. I'm as shocked as you are. Well, maybe not _as_ shocked. I've seen my fair share of miracles..."

Locke looked him steadily in the eyes, his face marked with sincerity. Desmond was tempted to believe that he was telling the truth.

"But how…how is that possible?!" he stammered.

"Don't underestimate the value of sacrifice," Locke answered. "One thing I know is that this island rewards those who make offerings when they are called to do so. You wanted to save Charlie from this room…."

Locke tapped the window with his knuckle.

"…_he's gone_…" he whispered.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Characters:** Desmond, Charlie and Claire.

**Authors Notes:** Phew, sorry this chapter has taken me a while. It is very mythology heavy and has gone through some serious rewrites in an effort to improve the flow. I hope my theories make a vague amount of sense and that it doesn't turn into a frustrating mindfuck. Thanks once again to pacejunkie for her very constructive advice.

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"…on the list…we have to save…"

Desmond stirred and blinked his eyes. A voice was whispering to him out of the dark, a voice that had been haunting his dreams for weeks now. It took Desmond a moment to realise that he wasn't dreaming this time. The voice had woken him from his sleep. He was lying sprawled inside his tent, staring up at the blue tarpaulin. The owner of the voice was in his tent too.

"It had to be a sacrifice…a sacrifice so he could rise again in the temple…that's why he gave you the flashes…don't tell Locke…"

Desmond fumbled, his hands closing around a lighter. He sparked it and squinted through the shadows. Then he froze in shock. Charlie was crouching in the entrance of his shelter. He was wearing a white smock shirt and white trousers. His hair was longer and his beard was fuller, but otherwise he looked the same as he had done a month ago. His eyes were fixed on Desmond.

"…there was never going to be any rescue…he just needed a sacrifice…he chose me, but I'm not the one he really wants…"

"What is this?!" Desmond exclaimed in fright.

Charlie shrank back into the shadows. Desmond reached for him, trying to prevent him from leaving, but he found himself clutching a fistful of sand. He shuddered and gasped. Then he scrambled from his shelter, staggering onto the darkened beach. He tore around wildly, yelling into the night.

"Charlie!" he called frantically. "Come back, man!"

He was silenced by the sound of a baby wailing. He turned to Claire's tent to see the young mother lifting her son from his crib. She rocked him gently in her arms as she slowly walked towards Desmond.

"Claire, I'm sorry…" he stammered, cringing and staring down at his feet. "I didn't mean to wake him…I was just…"

"I heard what you were yelling, Desmond," she said, looking him sternly in the eye. The girl was through with people keeping the truth from her. "You still have visions about him, don't you?"

Desmond shook his head. "No, not visions. Just dreams."

Claire nodded. Her face was utterly blank.

"I wish I could see him in dreams," she said, numbly. "I used to dream about him all the time…I don't even dream anymore since…"

Claire hesitated. She couldn't bring herself to say it. A whole month had passed, but it still upset her to mention Charlie's death. Her voice was dry and straining, though her eyes had no more tears left to give.

"I don't even have a photograph of him, Desmond," she added, bitterly. "Sometimes I'm scared that I'll forget what he looked like."

"Just so long as you don't forget who he was…or what he did for you."

Claire's face hardened, her eyes flashing with scorn. It had become Desmond's habit to keep reminding people of his friend's sacrifice. Charlie had slipped away so quietly to die for them all. Desmond felt the need to acknowledge his heroism. But Claire had been appalled when she learned that Charlie had taken it into his head to go off and drown himself just so that she could board a helicopter. Claire remained civil towards Desmond, but he knew that she quietly loathed him for encouraging Charlie with his visions. Visions that hadn't even come to pass.

"Goodnight Desmond," she said, coldly.

He nodded and wandered back to his own shelter. Just before Desmond ducked into his tent, his eyes caught sight of a figure standing in the tree line. It was Charlie, still dressed in white, still wide eyed and expressionless. Desmond almost cried out again, but Charlie held a finger to his lips. So Desmond approached him silently with slow footsteps like a hunter drawing close to a deer in the woods, trying not to startle it. Charlie turned into the jungle, beckoning him to follow. Desmond obeyed, though he was forced to break into a run when this strange vision of Charlie kept moving ahead of him on the path through the trees. Desmond could hardly keep track of him. It was like he was chasing a white rabbit. And as he ran the jungle stirred all around him, the air filling with ghostly whispers.

"…it had to be a sacrifice…should have left him at the Question Mark…it was part of an ancient ritual…now we have to warn them…we have to save the baby…but we mustn't let Locke know…Locke works for him…"

Desmond followed Charlie into the depths of the jungle, allowing himself to become lost and disorientated. He was sweating and wheezing, a sharp pain building in his side. He tried calling to Charlie again, pleading with him to stop and explain where they were going at such a furious pace. But he was too breathless even to speak. He sank to the ground, succumbing to his exhaustion.

Then, for the first time in weeks, Desmond had one of his flashes…

…_he saw a darkened room lit by a circle of tall white candles. In the middle of these candles there was a stone altar. Charlie's body was lying on this altar. His jeans and t-shirt were soaking wet. His face was pale and bruised. His blue lips were swollen. He didn't appear to be breathing. There were people kneeling in the room all around him. People dressed in white clothes who were whispering muffled prayers. Suddenly Charlie's eyes flew open. His body began to jerk in desperate spasms as he gasped for air. A man with dark hair rushed over to the altar and held his shoulders still. A voice rasped "Help me". It came from Charlie's mouth, but it wasn't his voice. Oh no…it definitely wasn't Charlie's voice… _

…_another flash. Charlie was still in the dark place. He was dressed in the white tunic and trousers now. Two men were supporting him on either side, helping him to walk. He was shaky on his feet like a newborn child. His eyes were cold and desolate. They drew close to a mirror. Charlie turned and stared into the glass. There was something wrong with his reflection. It seemed blurry and confusing like he was staring into a magic eye picture. It took a moment to see beyond Charlie…to see the filmy image of the old man who now possessed him. Charlie's eyes suddenly grew wide with terror. There was a scream. This was Charlie screaming… _

…_then Charlie was struggling on the floor, pinned down by several hands. The dark haired man was kneeling beside him, holding a needle over Charlie's arm. He said the syringe was filled with heroin…that it would help Charlie to calm down. Charlie shook his head frantically. "I'll be good," he pleaded. The man nodded and put the needle away. Charlie was taken to bed where he lay sobbing brokenly into his pillow as though his whole world had been shattered. The dark haired man sat on his mattress and stroked his head consolingly. He promised Charlie that Claire and Aaron were safe. He said they had been rescued and were already back in Sydney. He told Charlie to listen to Jacob and to be at peace…_

…_then there was a flash of Charlie sitting near the opening of a narrow tunnel. His hands were clawing at his scalp, his face scrunched up as he muttered "Get out! Get out of my head! You're a liar! You lied to me! Get out!!" Charlie's body convulsed. He released a shuddering breath like he had just shaken a foul nightmare from his mind. Then he flinched. He could hear voices echoing through the corridors. People were searching for him. They must have realised he was out of bed. Charlie crawled into the tunnel, scrambling on his elbows and knees. The tunnel began to curve upwards. It was like he was climbing up a rabbit hole. Charlie panted for breath, desperate to reach the fresh air that lay at the tunnel's end… _

Desmond blinked. The flashes slipped away from his vision. He was left wheezing and trembling in the darkened jungle.

Suddenly Desmond was aware of another sound beyond the whispers. The sound of feet pounding against the ground and legs tearing through the long grass. He realised there was somebody else running through the jungle. Desmond lifted his head to see a small dark figure thundering up the path. Judging by their build and the sound of their gasps the runner was a young man. His limbs were flailing madly and his head kept whipping back over his shoulder.

Desmond hid in the bushes. He intended to catch this stranger and question him over the visions and whispers. Whoever the runner was he was bloody fast. Like a shadow flitting through the night. Desmond almost missed him as he leapt from the bushes and tackled him to the ground.

"Who are you?!" Desmond demanded, fiercely.

The stranger scrabbled forwards on his belly, pawing the soil and trying desperately to escape. Desmond grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

"Tell me who you are!" he insisted.

"Get your bloody hands off me, you nutter!"

Desmond blinked in astonishment. He quickly flipped the man over onto his back. He could scarcely believe it. Charlie was lying on the ground before him. The whites of his eyes were shinning in the moonlight. The rest of his face was caked in dirt. He was filthy from head to foot. He was still wearing the loose smock shirt, only now it was no longer white but the colour of earth.

Before Desmond could say another word to him Charlie reached out and clasped him by the collar, pulling him close.

"It's trying to kill me!!" Charlie gasped.

Desmond winced. It seemed like some things never changed.

"What's trying to kill you this time?" he asked.

Before Charlie could answer there came an almighty MMMRRROOOWWWRRR sound, together with a hissing, clicking and metallic grinding of such force that the whole jungle started quaking around it.

"Run!" Charlie yelled. "_Bloody_ run!"

The two men scrambled to their feet and ran from the awful churning noise. Desmond had no idea what was chasing them. He had heard rumours of this monster made of black smoke that kills people and knocks down trees, but he had never encountered it. However he had seen what it had done to Eko and that was enough convince him that this was something you fled from. But Desmond had already run so far. His legs were staggering, his knees ready to buckle. Charlie noticed this and pulled Desmond into a tight brace of trees that ran along the mountainside. Once they were shielded by these trees Desmond collapsed to the ground while Charlie stood peering through the gaps of the branches, listening intently.

"I think…I think we've lost it!" said Charlie, laughing hoarsely. "_Yes_! It's moving off. Phew! Some sodding monster, hey?"

Desmond frowned, shaking his head. They had run for miles through the dense jungle and yet Charlie still had a curious abundance of energy. He was giggling deliriously and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"What…what the hell happened to you, mate?" Desmond asked, between wheezes. "Where have you been for the last month?"

Charlie shook his head, refusing to answer.

"I, I can't tell you _that_, Des," he said, haltingly. "That wouldn't be a good idea. It's not safe for you. I know too much! About the flashes, about the sacrifices – everything! That's why it's trying to kill me."

Desmond sat upright and grabbed Charlie's shirttails, yanking him to the ground. For the last month Desmond had been agonising over this man's death. His days had been consumed with grief, shame and the never ending question of whether it had been his fault. Now he found that in all that time Charlie hadn't been dead at all. Charlie was alive. Charlie was kneeling before him, wide eyed and grinning, as he breathed into Desmond's face. Desmond felt like slapping him.

"Listen pal…" he began, restraining himself while tightening his grip on Charlie's shirt. "I went through a month of seeing you die in flashes followed by another month of thinking that you _were_ dead. Then I find that your body is missing and it turns out you're somehow alive. If you know the meaning of all this then I think I've a right to a bloody explanation!" Desmond's hands trembled with frustration. "I watched you drown, brother! I watched you _drown_!"

Charlie's smile faded. He took hold of Desmond's wrists, steadying him and hushing him. Then he nodded concedingly.

"I _did_ drown, Desmond," Charlie confirmed. "I was dead. Or at least…I was mostly dead. For a while I was sort of…between places. Then I woke up and I was breathing again and I was…I was in the temple. I was lying on an altar. There were people all around me. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak and then…_he_ started speaking through me. It was like I was trapped inside myself…like he had taken over me. I couldn't force him out, Des. Not at first."

"What?" he spluttered. Desmond realised that his vision had been real, only the flashes had been from the past rather than the future. He remembered the strange voice that had come out of Charlie's mouth. He remembered the old man in the mirror. This was what the whispers had been trying to tell him.

"Who is he?" Desmond hissed. "Who is HE?!"

Charlie stammered wordlessly. He seemed fearful to speak of this man. If indeed it _was_ a man. Desmond shook him by the shoulders and demanded an answer. Charlie winced and raised a finger to his lips.

"_Jacob_…" he whispered, nervously. "It was Jacob who took me, Desmond. It was Jacob who saved me…just like he saved you."

Charlie's eyes were very wide now. If it weren't for his vision Desmond might have believed his friend had been stumbling around the jungle losing his sanity for the last month. Now Charlie was raving about temples and sacrifices, wearing white robes and looking like he had just escaped from a religious cult. But Charlie wasn't crazy. Desmond had seen enough to convince him of that.

"Look here, brother…" Desmond said, tentatively. "I don't know any Jacob…when exactly did this feller save me?"

"I didn't remember either, Des! But it's true. Jacob saved us all. You, me, Locke and Eko. We all would have died in the hatch implosion if it wasn't for Jacob! But after he saved us, we were in his power, even though we didn't realise. It was Jacob who gave you the flashes, Des. He got into your mind and he was testing you. He was showing you those things because he wanted them to happen! He needed you to offer him a sacrifice. And the sacrifice was _me_."

Desmond blinked. He supposed it wasn't so strange that Charlie had escaped from a flooded room in an underwater station. He himself had escaped from the lowest tunnel of an imploding underground hatch. Desmond had never made sense of how he ended up back in the jungle after turning the failsafe key and reliving that day from his past. Maybe this Jacob character did have something to do with it. Desmond wondered why the creepy bastard had stolen his clothes.

"What about Locke and Eko?" he questioned further.

"Stop asking me, Des!" Charlie said in a mounting panic. "Have you got a bloody death wish or something? You remember what the black smoke did Eko, right? Eko was too strong. Eko defied him! When Jacob realised that he couldn't control Eko, he killed him. Just like he's trying to kill me now! You'll be next if you're not careful!!"

Desmond ignored these warnings. He needed to know the truth. He tightened his hold on Charlie and looked him firmly in the eye.

"What about Locke?" he persisted. "Come on, brother! What has Locke got to do with Jacob? Before were whispering 'Don't tell Locke'…"

"Don't tell Locke anything!" Charlie echoed, imploringly. "Locke will do anything that Jacob wants him to do. Locke has been in his power for a long time. Jacob helped Locke to walk again. He saved Locke from a gunshot wound. Locke is his right hand man! It was Locke who offered him the first sacrifice. But he messed it up! He should have left him at the Question Mark…"

"Slow down!" Desmond insisted. Charlie was becoming very fraught and emotional. This meant it easier to get information out of him, but also meant that it was difficult to follow his outpourings. "Who are you talking about now?"

"_Boone_! Locke's hunting friend. Boone was the first sacrifice! Locke followed the vision and did everything Jacob demanded. Then he messed it up by taking Boone to Jack. He should have left him at the Question Mark like you left me in the Looking Glass. Jacob could have saved him! But then Jacob would have taken him. He wanted Boone because he was young and good and easy to control. But Locke messed up, so he had to find another sacrifice. I was next on the list…"

"List?" he interrupted, sharply. "What list?"

"Jacob's list! His list of potential vessels. His list of sacrifices! He wasn't sure about me at first. He needed to test me. He wanted me to be good and healthy. When I threw the statues away that was when Jacob chose me. After I drowned he brought me to the temple and took control of me. I can't tell you anything else, Des. I've already said too much."

"You may as well tell me the rest, brother," said Desmond. "I know most of it already. I saw a vision of you in the temple. I saw the old man in the mirror. I heard his voice. It wasn't Jacob who sent me those flashes, was it Charlie? It was _you_. I know it. You were having some struggle with Jacob. You forced him out of your head and then you escaped up one of those tunnels. But I still don't know what it is that Jacob wants. Who is Jacob, Charlie…_what_ is he?!"

"Jacob has been here for years, Desmond," Charlie murmured, uncertainly. "He came here with the Black Rock. He should have died a whole century ago…but his spirit was strong. His spirit is the power of this island. Jacob brings the island everything that it needs. He controls the birds, the lightning and the ocean around it. For a long time now he has been looking for ways to come back. All he needed was a sacrifice. It is part of a ritual that was performed on this island by its most ancient tribes. He needed a sacrifice so that he could rise again in the temple..."

"How do you know this, Charlie?" Desmond asked, bewildered. "Does Jacob speak to you? Did he tell you these things?"

Charlie shook his head. "Jacob only tells people what they want to hear. He told me to be at peace so that I would let him take over me. It was like I was sleeping, Des. Like I was blind, deaf and mute. Jacob thought he had control and then…then I looked into the mirror and I saw his thoughts. I realised what he had been planning all along. I realised he had been lying to me. He lied to both of us, Des! There was never gonna be any rescue..."

Charlie fell silent for a moment. They had been so caught up in their conversation that they hadn't been listening to the sounds of the jungle. They suddenly realised that they could hear the whispers and the mechanical rumbling. Peering through the trees they saw little traces of smoke hissing through the air. It was moving closer, hunting them. They sank low to the ground.

"You have to go, Des…" Charlie whispered to him. "It's me that it's come for. I can draw it off! You can make a run for it back to camp. You'll be okay so long as Jacob doesn't know what I've told you..."

Charlie began to rise, but Desmond held him back.

"Brother, if you think I'm gonna let you die saving my life again you've got another thing coming. Just stay down will you!"

"No Des!" Charlie said urgently, growing very distressed. "It'll kill you too and you have to warn Claire! She has to protect the baby! But don't tell, Locke…you mustn't let Locke find out about his plans…"

"What plans?" asked Desmond. "Warn Claire about what?!"

"About the plan! About Jacob's plan!!"

"Charlie…you haven't told me about any bloody plan!"

Charlie froze, his jaw falling open. He cursed himself for somehow skipping over the most important part of his story.

"Jacob's plan to take Aaron!!" he blurted. "Aaron is the one that he wants! Aaron has always been first on his list, even before he was born! I was just a temporary vessel. Jacob was planning to use me so he could get to Aaron. He has tried to do it before. It was Jacob that gave me those dreams about the baby being in danger. It was a trick! He was trying to get me to bring Aaron to the water. He thought if I was crazy enough or wasted on drugs then I would end up drowning him rather than baptising him. That would have fulfilled the sacrifice. Jacob would have taken him! Aaron's just a baby, Des. If Jacob takes him then he won't be strong enough to force him out. Jacob will steal Aaron's life so he can be reborn and live again. Aaron will be trapped forever! We have to save him!"

Charlie's voice rose to a feverish pitch of desperation. That was enough to call the monster to its prey. The trees shielding them were blown apart, leaving Desmond and Charlie exposed before the mountainside. They ran back and flattened themselves against the rock face, but there was nowhere to hide. Without thinking Desmond thrust Charlie behind him, so that he was shielding him with his body. He decided that if the smoke wanted Charlie it would have to come through him. He swallowed fearfully thinking this was exactly what the smoke would do, but he wasn't going to flee like a coward. He wouldn't abandon Charlie again.

The creature hovered before them, considering them. Then suddenly a long tendril of smoke whipped out like the arm of an octopus. It snagged Desmond by the ankle and dragged him across the ground, hoisting him up into the air. Desmond struggled, but the monster kept him dangling.

"Let go of him!" yelled Charlie.

Charlie took a step forwards, his eyes wide and blazing. At this moment another arm of smoke shot forwards, leering into Charlie's face. There was flash of white light like the monster was taking a photograph. Charlie flinched and then stood still, gasping for breath. Then Desmond was dropped to the ground where he lay winded and groaning. The smoke left them, retreating into the jungle.

"Are you alright, brother?" asked Desmond, rising slowly to his feet and wincing over the shooting pains in his joints.

Charlie stood dazed and swaying. His brow was creased with confusion and his eyes were heavier than they had been before.

"I think so," he answered, frowning and uncertain.

Desmond came to stand beside him, placing a hand against his back.

"That flash...did it do anything?" he asked in concern.

Charlie shook his head. "I don't know."

Desmond exhaled wearily. "Let's not worry about it for now, hey?" he said, trying to sound reassuring. "Let's just get you back to camp. Your friends aren't gonna believe this, Charlie." Desmond smiled, realising. "_Claire_. Claire is gonna be so happy. She thought she had lost you forever, mate."

Charlie squinted at him nervously.

"Who's Claire?" he asked.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Characters:** Desmond, Charlie, Locke, Claire and B-Team.  
**  
****Authors Notes:** This chapter was intended to be the end of the story. It is now an interlude chapter. Part of me wants it to be the end because I don't really wish to abuse Charlie and Claire anymore (poor lambs!) But Pace has encouraged me to write an action finale that pays off my Jacob mythology. I have got ideas, but it may take me a while to finish as other work is taking over. So lets call this a temporary ending and say CC will be fine...for a while...

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The morning light was just beginning to dawn as Desmond led Charlie back to camp. As they walked Desmond told Charlie all that he knew of his relationship with Claire. How the two of them had met following their plane crash and formed a close bond. How Charlie had spent three months caring for the girl and her newborn child. How he had been willing to sacrifice his life so that they might be rescued from the island. As he spoke Charlie simply shook his head in confusion. Nothing that Desmond was describing seemed familiar to him.

Desmond mentioned some more of Charlie's friends along with significant events in the camp. Charlie couldn't recall any of them. Desmond then asked if he remembered who had taken him and where he had been for the last month. He received the same blank response. As the questioning wore on Charlie became increasingly huffy and sullen until he would only answer in grunts. When Desmond had found him Charlie had been overwhelmed with panic and emotion. Now he was yawning and leaning into Desmond's shoulder. In a weary voice Charlie thanked the Scotsman for saving his life. Desmond raised an eyebrow. It seemed that Charlie at least remembered him and perhaps the nature of their relationship.

Desmond supposed it was obvious what had happened. Charlie knew too much so the black smoke had been sent to wipe his memory. It could have been worse. Charlie had not been killed. Desmond hadn't been forced to watch him die for the second time. It seemed that Jacob was unaware of what Charlie had told him before he was stunned into amnesia. He tried to focus on the positives. Charlie's friends would be happy to see him alive whether he remembered them or not, though he was still nervous about bringing Charlie back to them.

The beach was silent when they returned. The sun was low in the sky and nobody had crawled out from their shelters yet. Desmond stood considering for a moment. Then he led Charlie over to Hurley's tent.

"Wait here, okay?" he instructed.

Desmond turned and slipped through the tent flaps. Hurley was laying on his back, snoring gently, his hair hanging over his face in fuzzy black curtains. Desmond knelt beside him and shook his shoulder.

"Wha…_dude_…" Hurley moaned, rubbing his eyes. "Desmond…is that you? What the hell, man…it's like seriously early."

"I need to talk to you," he insisted.

"Aw crap…" Hurley grumbled, hauling himself into a sitting position. "Don't tell me your super powers came back."

Desmond swallowed. "It's…it's about Charlie."

He watched as Hurley winced and frowned, the corners of his mouth curving down. "What about him?" he asked, heavily.

Desmond raised his hands. "Don't freak out, alright?"

Hurley's eyes widened. "Dude…too late. I'm totally freaked."

Desmond sighed. "Well, can you at least promise to keep your voice down?" Hurley nodded slowly, so Desmond turned back to the entrance of the tent and called, "Okay brother, you can come inside now…"

Charlie slipped through the tent flaps and stood nervously before them.

"DUUUUDDDEEE…" Hurley hollered.

Desmond quickly slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Hurley for Godsake!" he hissed. "I just asked you to be quiet. You're gonna wake up the whole camp. Get a grip, man!"

Charlie lingered in the entrance, looking uncertain. It was clear from his expression he didn't recognise his old pal Hurley.

"It's alright," Desmond encouraged. "He's a friend."

Desmond beckoned Charlie to sit beside them. As Charlie knelt down Hurley reached out and clasped his arm as if needing to reassure himself that he wasn't seeing ghosts. Desmond took his hand away from Hurley's mouth and the Californian sat whispering _"Oh man, oh man, oh man…"_ as he stared at Charlie. That was all he could say for a while. Then he noticed Charlie wasn't responding.

"Dude, what's wrong with him?" he asked, his face pinching with concern. "Is he like brain damaged or something? Can he even talk?!"

"Yeah, I can talk!" Charlie snapped, yanking his arm from Hurley's grasp. "There's nothing wrong with my brain," he muttered.

Desmond described to Hurley how he had found Charlie in the jungle. How they had been attacked by the black smoke, how there had been a flash of white light and since then Charlie couldn't remember anything.

"Whoa man…this is heavy stuff…" Hurley remarked, shaking his head. "Better get Sayid. He'll know what to do."

Desmond nodded and stood up to leave the tent. Charlie rose to follow him, but Desmond told him to stay with Hurley, promising that he would be back soon. Charlie didn't seem very happy about the situation, but did as he was asked. Desmond hurried over to Sayid's lean to and woke him up. As soon as Sayid had gotten his bearings Desmond began telling him about Charlie's return. As with Hurley he left out his knowledge of Jacob and the temple.

Sayid blinked. "I don't believe it."

"I'm not lying to you, brother," said Desmond.

"I can see that," said Sayid, who was acutely skilled in perceiving the truth in any given situation. "I just don't believe it. It's not possible."

"Come and see for yourself," he suggested.

Desmond led Sayid over to Hurley's shelter. As the two men approached they heard the sound of music coming from inside the tent. Desmond remembered that Claire had allowed Hurley to keep Charlie's guitar as a memento. They stepped through the tent flaps to see the battered instrument in Charlie's lap, his fingers twanging against its remaining strings. Sayid's jaw fell open and he sank to his knees. Hurley was fully awake now and grinning from ear to ear.

"Check this out!" he said, brightly. "Charlie remembers how to play guitar! He was just strumming a Kinks song. How awesome is that?!"

Desmond looked sideways at Sayid. "Well?"

Sayid opened and closed his mouth a few times. This appeared to be one of those rare occasions when he was completely stumped.

"Give me a moment…" he said at last.

Charlie was still plucking idly at his instrument. Desmond reached out to muffle the strings, but Hurley slapped his hand away.

"Let him play, dude! It's good therapy for him. Play us another song, Charlie. I know! Play 'You All Everybody!' Heh heh!"

Charlie frowned and shrugged his shoulders.

"What?!" Hurley spluttered. "You don't remember? Dude, that was like your big hit song. It went like _'You all everybody…acting like those stupid people wearing their stupid clothes.'_ Man, you used to sing it all the time. You kind of…did our brains in with it after a while. You gotta remember!"

Charlie thought for a moment and then began strumming a rhythm experimentally. It turned out to be 'Wonderwall' by Oasis.

"Oh cool, man! I love this song too." Hurley immediately started singing the wrong words in the wrong place. Charlie jumped forward several bars trying to keep in time with these sporadic vocals. At this point, Sayid stopped trying to make sense of the situation and simply began to laugh.

Desmond was still nervous about waking the camp. They were going to be shocked and overwhelmed by this sudden sight of Charlie if they weren't prepared for it. He darted outside the tent and almost ran headlong into Jin. The Korean man lived in the neighbouring tent. It seemed that he had wandered over to investigate the music and the voices which had disturbed his rest.

Jin glanced over Desmond's shoulder. His eyes immediately widened and he barged his way passed. Charlie flinched and held up his guitar defensively as the fisherman knelt before him and threw his arms around his shoulders. Jin laughed heartily and slapped Charlie's back, delighted to see him. Then he turned to face the others who were gathered inside the shelter.

"Claire!" Jin said, excitedly. "Claire!!"

"No, no, Jin…not yet!" said Desmond. "Don't tell Claire just yet. He doesn't even remember her. You're just gonna upset the girl…"

"Yes, yes!" said Jin, nodding his head. "I get Claire!"

Before they could clear up their misunderstanding, Jin dashed from the tent like a speeding bullet. Desmond and Sayid shared looks of concern and stepped outside the shelter. Jin was tearing across the beach towards Claire's tent. As he ran he caught the attention of Jack who was standing in the kitchen pouring cereal into a coconut shell. The doctor put down his breakfast and marched towards Desmond and Sayid with a wary look of suspicion on his face.

"What's going on here?" asked Jack, a curious smile teasing his lips. "What are you guys hiding in Hurley's tent this time?

Desmond sighed. It seemed there was no chance of a tentative reintroduction to the camp. He stood aside and allowed Jack to step into the shelter. Then he looked ahead to see Jin ushering Claire across the beach.

"_Christ _Jin…what's going on?" she muttered, crankily.

"Come! Come!" Jin enthused. "Surprise!"

Desmond rushed over to Claire and Jin, thinking that this surprise would be too much for the Aussie lass and wanting to forewarn her.

"Claire, listen to me!" he called out. "Something has happened. I don't know how, I don't know why…it's a miracle, sister!"

Claire frowned at him and then her eyes were caught by something over his shoulder. Desmond turned and saw that Jack had brought Charlie out of the tent. Hurley followed them with a hand resting on Charlie's back. It appeared the doctor needed to look at Charlie in the light. It seemed the sight of this man alive and well was blinding his logic. He was shaking his head in disbelief.

Desmond turned back to Claire. He had been expecting her to scream or collapse or burst into tears. But Claire didn't do any of these things. Instead she did something that she hadn't done in over a month. She smiled.

Then she took a step forwards...

"Claire, wait…" said Desmond. "I have to tell you…Charlie doesn't remember you. He doesn't remember anything! I'm sorry, but…"

Claire flinched. "He's lost his memory?"

Desmond nodded, solemnly. "Otherwise he seems fine…"

They glanced back at Charlie and the crowd that was swiftly gathering around him. Hurley, unable to contain himself any longer, was yelling at the top of his lungs that Charlie was back. That Charlie was alive. Sun, Kate, Sawyer, Rose and Bernard were all out of their tents now and hurrying over to greet him. They were staring at Charlie wide eyed and open mouthed, reaching out to touch him, squeezing his shoulders and ruffling his hair. It seemed like they could scarcely believe he was real. Charlie was beginning to look very nervous and intimidated by all the attention. Desmond thought it was time he rescued him from it.

Claire caught hold of his arm, halting him.

"I'll handle this," she said, firmly.

It was then Desmond realised that Claire was the one person who knew what Charlie was going through. He had heard about how she had been abducted by the Others and had returned to the camp with amnesia. Desmond decided to hang back. Claire was the authority in this situation. He was impressed to see her behaving so maturely. She had taken this news of Charlie's memory loss in her stride. Just seeing Charlie alive seemed to have strengthened her.

"Everyone just back off him!" Claire demanded, marching up to the huddle. "Charlie doesn't remember you people, alright? So he doesn't want you all gawking at him and crowding in around him. Lay off!"

The people parted and stepped back immediately. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and then turned his head to look at Claire. Once again there was no recognition in his face, but his eyes still lit up when he saw her. It was like watching somebody falling in love at first sight. Charlie smiled at her, bashfully, his mouth contorting as he struggled to find the appropriate greeting.

"Thanks Miss…thank you…err…do I know you then?"

She smiled back, her face tensing and flushing.

"I'm Claire," she told him, helpfully.

"Right." He offered his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Charlie realised that he was still covered in dirt. He tried to retract his hand, but Claire reached out and clasped it between her palms.

"It's very nice to meet you," she replied, softly.

Jack gestured for the others to move off and allow them their reunion. There would be plenty of time for them all to talk to Charlie later. Claire kept hold of Charlie's hand and led him towards their tent. Desmond followed at a distance, old instincts telling him to stay in close proximity to Charlie.

"Desmond says…we're friends…" Charlie faltered.

She raised an eyebrow coyly. "A little more than friends actually."

Charlie blushed and bit back a smile. Claire giggled and told him not to worry about it. She said that she had forgotten him once too.

"Your things are over in my tent. Your clothes, your notebooks, your ring…we can go through them together. They might help you to remember. Or if you just want to have a lie down I'll make sure nobody bothers you."

Charlie nodded. He seemed to trust her instinctively. They entered her tent together, passing by Aaron's cot as they went. Charlie halted his steps and glanced down at the infant. Desmond suddenly heard a happy squealing from inside the cradle. The baby was jiggling his legs and holding up his arms. Claire let her composure slip and gave way to tears of happiness.

"Oh God…he remembers you…" she stammered. "Charlie, he's missed you so much! We both have..." She quickly sat Charlie down on the mattress and lifted Aaron from his crib. "I think he'd like to say hello."

Claire gently placed Aaron into Charlie's arms. Charlie smiled and cradled the baby close to his chest. Aaron was smiling and gurgling as he reached for Charlie's nose, his ears, his lower lip…anything he could grab hold of to pull Charlie nearer and make sure he didn't go away again.

"Heeey big guy!" Charlie murmured, smiling.

Claire's eyes widened. "You remember him, don't you?"

Charlie looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. Claire gasped, wonderingly. She reached beneath her bed and pulled out the stuffed box that she kept under there. This was her collection of Charlie's things. Claire started to show him each of the artefacts in turn – the silver DS ring, the list of favourite memories, the empty peanut butter jar. Charlie sat frowning as Claire displayed these relics from his forgotten life. When she looked for his reaction he would smile and nod. Desmond had the feeling that Charlie didn't really remember at all. He was just feigning recognition because it made this pretty girl so happy to think she was helping him.

Desmond stood watching Charlie for a while. Claire was nestled close to him. Aaron was tucked up in his arms. In spite of his confusion, Charlie seemed very contented. Desmond considered what Locke had told him about Charlie's problems – his drug addiction, his insecurities, his restlessness. Desmond wondered whether it was really such a bad thing that Charlie didn't remember his old life. It seemed those memories had always crippled him and held him back. Maybe it was better that he was free of them. Charlie had been wiped clean. He was brand new. He was fresh and pure as the baby that he held. After all he had suffered and sacrificed maybe _this_ was Charlie's reward. The island had restored his innocence.

Claire lifted her head and noticed Desmond was still hovering around their tent. She sighed and flashed him her sweetest _'go away'_ smile. Desmond nodded, reluctantly turning his back. He wandered past the kitchen hut. He saw that Hurley had the group congregated there and appeared to be telling them the comic book version of Charlie's survival. He described how Charlie had swum out of the Looking Glass station, then tunnelled his way through the island and done battle with the monster in the jungle before returning to their camp. Desmond smiled. He hadn't seen Hurley so cheerful and animated in a long while. It seemed Charlie might now have topped even the Flash as Hurley's own personal hero.

Desmond found that his weariness was overwhelming him. He decided to return to his shelter and take some rest. Desmond was just making his way over to his tent when he was halted by a soft voice in his ear.

"Nice to see the family back together," said the voice.

Desmond raised his head to see Locke standing with his arms folded, his keen eyes watching the scene in Claire's shelter. The old hunter hadn't joined the group in their celebration over Charlie's return. Locke seldom mingled with his fellow castaways these days. After witnessing his murder of Naomi and threats to shoot Jack they had all become extremely wary of him. When they realised that Locke had been right to warn them against the people arriving on the boat, he had been accepted back into the camp, though he remained an outsider.

Locke smiled warmly. "You know, those three have been ripped apart so many times, but whenever they return to each other, it feels like nothing has changed. I guess that the island has further plans for them…"

Desmond felt a shiver pass through him. He knew in his heart that Locke was right. The black smoke hadn't spared Charlie out of kindness. If Jacob had allowed him to live, it must mean he still thought he could use Charlie as part of his plan. Desmond realised he was going to have to keeper a closer watch on Charlie than ever now. If Charlie really did remember Aaron it might not be such a good thing. Jacob might have ways of forcing Charlie to deliver the baby to him, though Desmond knew Charlie would never do so willingly.

He glanced suspiciously at Locke, who was still smiling pleasantly as he watched the young couple and the baby in their tent. Desmond had the feeling that Locke didn't mean any harm to them, yet it seemed that Locke had never meant to hurt his friend Boone either. For all his wisdom there was a sense of naivety about Locke. Desmond remembered how Charlie had referred to him as Jacob's servant and warned him not to tell Locke about Jacob's plans. Desmond thought it best that Locke was kept at a distance from them. He forced a smile.

"The island isn't gonna mess with them again," Desmond said firmly. "They've been through enough already. Whatever the island might want from them is not important. Their family is what's important." Desmond nodded to himself, feeling a new sense of purpose growing in him. "You said I was appointed their protector. I intend to do a better job this time…you got that?"

Locke frowned. "Are you threatening me, Desmond?"

Desmond's smile stayed in its place, though his eyes widened ever so slightly. "Only if you make me, boxman…"

With that, Desmond turned from Locke and strode over the kitchen hut to make breakfast. He felt the need to remain alert and vigilant, now that he had been given this new calling. Now he had something to save...

_TBC_...


	4. Chapter 4

**Characters:** Desmond, Charlie, Locke, Claire, Hurley and Jack.

**Author's Note**: It's finished!! Thank the Lord...

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Desmond never really slept through the nights anymore. His worries kept his mind and his senses ticking over. He would need to get up every few hours and pace the beach before he could settle down again. And on this particular night it was very fortunate that Desmond kept this habit.

Charlie was out of bed too. In slow footsteps he was drifting over the sand towards the jungle. The baby was nestled in his arms. Desmond swallowed. He had feared that something like this might happen. He hurried across the beach to intercept Charlie. Suddenly a hand caught his arm.

"_Shhhhhh_…" a voice hissed into his ear.

It was Locke. By suspicious coincidence he was awake too.

"He's sleep walking," Locke warned, nodding towards Charlie. "If you wake him too suddenly he might drop the baby."

Desmond frowned, annoyed by Locke's presence, yet the hunter was right. Charlie's eyes were heavy-lidded. He was walking like one in a trance. They approached him slowly, cautiously. As they drew nearer Desmond heard that Charlie was murmuring feverishly under his breath. He couldn't make out the actual words, but he sounded distressed. Locke moved round so he was blocking Charlie's path. Then in one swift movement he lifted the baby from his arms.

Aaron squealed loudly, disliking being snatched and jostled about. Charlie let out a yelp, his eyes flying open and his hands flailing. Desmond quickly circled his arms around Charlie's chest and pulled him back so he didn't hit the baby in his panic. Charlie began to struggle and protest.

"Let go! Get off me!" he cried. "There's danger! The baby's in danger! I need to help him. I need to take Aaron to the…"

"It was just a dream…" Desmond soothed.

But Charlie wouldn't pipe down. His shouts soon had most of the camp out of their beds and rushing over to see what the trouble was. Claire arrived in a fit of worry. She ran up to Locke and he passed Aaron back to her. Claire flinched and took a nervous step back as Locke turned to Charlie.

"Aaron's in danger!" he repeated. "I have to save him!"

The onlookers exchanged some very disturbed glances when they heard Charlie yelling this. Locke tilted his head, intrigued.

"What did you dream, Charlie?" he asked. "What did you see?"

"This isn't your business, boxman!" snapped Desmond.

Locke crossed his arms. "Well Desmond, if you're gonna take charge of this situation it might interest you to know that we have had a little incident like this before. You wouldn't know about that, of course. You were busy floating around the island in your sailing boat when it happened."

Desmond frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"A few months ago Charlie was taking the baby from his crib in the night and saying that he needed to save him. Only the last time Charlie was on drugs. Or at least…we thought he was. Maybe we were wrong." Locke fixed his eyes on Charlie once more.

"What did you dream?" he asked again.

Charlie opened his mouth, eager to answer.

"_Don't_!" Desmond warned, his voice sharp. "Don't tell him anything. Come on, brother…let's just get back to bed, yeah?"

Desmond accompanied Charlie and Claire back to their tent, keeping a cautionary grip on Charlie's arm. Claire tucked her wailing son back into his cradle, rocking him and shushing him, trying to get him to settle. At the same time Desmond sat Charlie down on Claire's mattress. The young couple were sharing a bed now, but that didn't mean that their relationship was progressing in any sort of coital sense. Charlie and Claire didn't even kiss on the lips anymore. They were more chaste with each other than ever since Charlie's return.

Charlie had lost so much memory that he had become like a child. He was much quieter and meeker than the brash young man Desmond had known a month before. He didn't mingle with the group as much. He spent most of his time in Claire's shelter playing with Aaron or strumming his guitar. He wouldn't engage in conversations and it only took the smallest thing to upset him. Often Desmond would find Charlie sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, crying softly into his hands. Desmond would put an arm around his shoulder and ask him what was wrong. Charlie would just shake his head and say that he couldn't remember.

Maybe Charlie _didn't_ remember in his head, but there was still something inside him, some instinctive knowledge, that was making him fearful. It was as though his mind was being haunted by some strange presence that he couldn't put a name to. Desmond knew its name. He knew that it was Jacob who was sending these dreams and making Charlie sleepwalk. He was trying to confuse and manipulate him just as he had done to Desmond with the flashes.

"Listen brother, whatever visions you're having…just ignore them, okay? They're just dreams. Nobody is in danger."

Charlie winced, shaking his head.

"It didn't feel like a dream, Des. It felt like someone was trying to send me a message. Maybe these dreams mean something!" Charlie peered over Desmond's shoulder to where Claire was trying to calm the baby. "Aaron's still crying, Des. Why is he still crying? There's something wrong!"

"Aaron's fine," Desmond assured him. "The wee chap is just a little scared over being woken up in the middle of the night."

"In my dream Aaron was really sick. He needed medicine…a _special_ medicine…if he doesn't get this medicine he's gonna die!"

This caught Claire's attention. She came to kneel beside them.

"Medicine?" she said, curiously. "Do you mean the vaccine? Charlie, we have got a whole case of the vaccine right here!"

"Claire, it doesn't do anything," Desmond muttered. "It's a placebo."

Claire shot him a look of irritation as if to say _'He didn't need to know_ _that!'_ But it didn't matter. Charlie was shaking his head.

"No, not the vaccine!" Charlie insisted. "That's not the medicine Aaron needs. We need to take him to a place called 'The Staff' out in the jungle. That's where the real medicine is. Aaron needs to go there!"

Desmond shook his head, firmly. "Listen to me, brother…you can't take the baby into the jungle. There's too much danger. We have to keep Aaron here on the beach to protect him. That's the best way."

Charlie frowned. "You think so?" he said, uncertainly. "Well, what if I went and got the medicine and brought back it here?"

"Forget the medicine!" Desmond snapped, causing Charlie to flinch. "It was a _dream_! Don't think about it. Go back to sleep."

Charlie still seemed unhappy and now a little resentful, but he grudgingly lay down on the mattress and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Desmond and Claire exchanged looks of concern. Then they moved a few paces away from the tent and spoke with each other in tense nervous whispers.

"This has happened before…" Desmond began.

"_Yes_," Claire said, tightly. "But I don't want to talk about it."

He nodded. "Right…but I was thinking…I could move my stuff closer…set up camp near your tent. Just in case it happens again."

"No, Desmond!" Claire hissed. "I can take care of this myself. I can be a heavy sleeper sometimes, but I'll just…"

Claire sighed. Her sentence trailed off.

Desmond and Claire had formed a truce since Charlie's return, but there was still a straining tension between them. They both felt responsible for what had happened to Charlie and wanted to help with his recovery, but like warring parents they often had different ideas about what was best for him. And at the same time they were frustrated that Charlie's memory was showing no signs of returning. It seemed the damage done by the black smoke would be permanent. It pained them that Charlie was alive and yet there was still so much of him missing.

Lately Claire had become fiercely possessive of Charlie and grew jealous whenever she thought Desmond was muscling in on her caretaker role. It reminded Desmond of the way Charlie himself had once been with Claire. They had swapped roles. Losing Charlie had made Claire so much more devoted to him. Claire wanted to be the one who cured Charlie of his amnesia. Sometimes she would look stung if Charlie seemed more familiar with Desmond than he was with her. And she was still mistrustful of Desmond's connection to Charlie.

"Okay then…" Desmond said, wearily. "But can you promise me one thing? If Charlie has any more of these dreams or visions…just make sure that he doesn't act on them. You got that, sister?"

Claire frowned. "But what if the danger is real, Desmond? Aaron's been sick before, you know…maybe he does need…"

"It's not real!" Desmond insisted. "I promise you."

Claire shook her head, annoyed by his mysteriousness. "What's going on, Desmond? You know something, don't you?"

He swallowed. "I can't tell you. It's not _safe_ to tell you. It would just put you and Charlie in more danger. You have to trust me!"

"Frankly Desmond, I'm struggling with that..."

They fell silent and glanced back to the tent. Charlie was lying on his side, his eyes fixed intensely upon Aaron's cradle. Claire returned to her shelter, climbing into left side of the bed so that she lay between Charlie and Aaron. She took hold of Charlie's hand and held it close to her chest.

Desmond sighed and walked away.

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Charlie spent the next few days worrying himself sick over the baby. Every time that Aaron so much as coughed, he would be thrown into turmoil and start screaming for help. Jack and Juliet would visit their tent regularly and reassure him that the baby had no fever, he had no rash – he was in perfect health. But Charlie would still be watching Aaron with those large nervous eyes of his, convinced that there was something very wrong with him.

Claire encouraged Charlie to spend time away from their tent. She suggested that he helped Jin with the fishing, telling him that he used to enjoy doing that. But Charlie didn't like going near to the ocean anymore. Although he claimed not to remember drowning, he seemed to have developed an instinctive fear of water. He was always the first to take shelter when it rained.

Claire was slowly becoming exhausted. Charlie wanted to stay close to Aaron at all times and yet Claire didn't dare leave him alone with the baby in case he was taken by one of these strange visions. Desmond would offer to take Charlie hunting, but Claire didn't trust Charlie being in his company either. She seemed to believe that if she let them go off together, Desmond might return without Charlie and tell her something terrible had happened to him.

One morning Desmond was woken by the sound of Claire screaming. When he arrived at her tent, he saw that Claire was kneeling by Aarons crib, covering it with her arms to protect the baby that lay inside. Jack, Sayid and Sawyer were restraining Charlie close by. Though he was much smaller than the three men holding him they were still having a difficult time keeping him under control. Charlie was frantic and hysterical as he yelled his usual proclamations about Aaron being in danger. In the end Sawyer pinned his arms to his sides while Sayid hoisted his feet of the ground. Jack told them to take Charlie to his tent.

"No Jack!" Claire protested, shaking her head. "Leave him alone!" In a small voice she added; "I don't want them to beat him up…"

Jack knelt beside Claire and squeezed her shoulder.

"Claire, it's okay. Nobody is going to hurt him. Charlie just needs to calm down. He needs time to recover. I'm going to help him, I promise. But I think it's safer to keep him away from the baby for now."

Claire closed her eyes and nodded reluctantly. Desmond knew that it must be tearing her apart to have to choose between Charlie and her son, but Claire wasn't physically strong enough to control this situation. Jack assured Claire that he was going to look after Charlie and then made his way over to his tent, which doubled up as the camp's infirmary. Desmond followed him.

They stepped inside the tent to find Sayid and Sawyer holding Charlie down on the makeshift bed. Desmond was suddenly reminded of his vision of Charlie in the temple where he had seen him being pinned down by the Others and threatened with a shot of heroin. He tried to imagine this situation from Charlie's perspective. Once again he was amongst a group of strangers who were (in his mind) preventing him from saving a child. It was the same thing all over again.

Desmond watched as Jack took out several strips of the material that they used for bandages. He passed them to Sawyer and instructed him to tie Charlie's wrists and ankles to the struts of the bed.

"What are you tying him down for?" Desmond objected, shaking his head. "You don't need to do that! He's just…"

"Restraints, Desmond," Jack reasoned. "We used them in the hospital all the time to ensure patients didn't injure themselves."

Desmond paced the tent, seething with frustration. Jack opened his pack and took out two sedatives, handing them to Sayid with a bottle of water. He told Sayid to make sure that Charlie swallowed them both.

"Oh, now you're drugging him," Desmond muttered. "Listen, this is going too far! Charlie will be fine if you just let me…"

"I want you out of here, Desmond!" Jack snapped.

Desmond frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

Suddenly Jack was on his feet, grabbing hold of Desmond's shirt and forcing him out of the tent. Jack was a strong guy and Desmond was too shocked to resist him. When they got outside Jack shoved him hard in the chest.

"Stay away from him!" Jack barked. His eyes were bright with anger. His voice was stern and menacing. "I mean it…"

Desmond shook his head in confusion.

"What is this, brother?" he stammered. "I'm the one who rescued him. I found him and brought him back. He's my friend…"

Jack's face twisted into a look of reproach.

"Desmond…for weeks you were telling Charlie that he was gonna die. You told him that you were having visions of him dying, over and over..." Jack shook his head in disgust. "You had the poor guy so _convinced_ that he was willing to drown himself, because he didn't think he stood any chance of surviving. Don't you see what you did? You practically drove him to suicide!"

Desmond felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Jack _knew_. He supposed it made sense that Jack knew. In the month that they all had believed Charlie to be dead, Jack had spent a lot of time comforting Claire and Hurley. One of them had probably let slip about his flashes while they were upset. Desmond didn't blame them for that. He was surprised Jack hadn't confronted him about this before. It was clear he held Desmond personally responsible for Charlie's drowning. Desmond could not even bring himself to object to the accusation. Jack had voiced all the worst things that Desmond had thought about himself.

Jack sighed heavily. "Desmond, I understand that after three years stranded on this island you must really be losing your mind by now. I can't do anything about that. But I'm not gonna let you mess with Charlie's head any longer. Do you understand me? You've done enough damage."

Jack scowled at him again and then turned away.

"No…wait…" Desmond said, feebly.

"Stay away from Claire too."

Jack slipped through the flaps of his tent and left him standing alone. Desmond crossed his arms over his chest. He felt shattered and friendless. He wandered away from the rows of tents and found a private place to sit in the sand. They all blamed him for what had happened to Charlie. Jack, Claire…everyone. What hurt the most was that Desmond considered Charlie his closest friend on the island, yet in Jack's opinion Desmond had pushed him into drowning. Just when the loneliness was almost driving him to tears, Hurley came and sat beside him. The young Latino was looking troubled as he glanced at Jack's tent.

"Dude…this is what it was like in the mental hospital," Hurley muttered, solemnly. "Every so often a guy would freak out and they would drag him away to some room. They would strap him down and dose him up with meds. You'd hear him crying and moaning when you passed by…"

Desmond frowned. "You were in a mental hospital?"

Hurley's face grew serious. "I'm not crazy."

He nodded, acceptingly. "Neither is Charlie."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Desmond was sleeping when she came to him.

"Help me! _Please_ you've got to help me!"

He felt a desperate hand tugging his arm and a breathless sobbing voice in his ear. He opened his eyes to see Claire kneeling beside him.

"Claire…what happened?" he asked.

"I…I woke up and his cradle was empty…then I went to Jack's tent, but Charlie wasn't there! They're both gone. Charlie _and_ Aaron!"

Desmond sat upright, his pulse racing. "But Charlie…Charlie was tied down on the bed…in Jack's shelter…" he stammered.

Claire shook her head in confusion and anguish.

"Someone must've untied him! I tried to ask Jack, but he…I couldn't wake him up! He was all woozy. I think somebody drugged him…"

Desmond's blood ran cold. Somebody had drugged Jack, untied Charlie and then taken Aaron. Desmond could think of only one person who might be possessed to do that. Jacob's right hand man. Locke.

"Please Desmond…" Claire pleaded, still tugging at his sleeves. "Please help them. You…you're the only one I trust!"

Desmond smiled weakly. It was a fraught moment, but it still touched him to learn that beneath her cool front of resentment Claire really did have faith in him and trusted him to save Charlie.

"Do you know where this medical station is?"

Claire nodded, rapidly.

"Lead the way then, sister…_hurry_!"

Desmond and Claire ran together through the darkened jungle. Despite the shadows and the tangled trees, the Aussie lass seemed to know her way to the station by pure instinct. She could probably find it blindfolded. Desmond was just praying that they made it there in time. He didn't know for certain, but he could guess the real reason that Jacob wanted Aaron to be brought to 'The Staff'. It was the same reason that he wanted Boone brought to Question Mark and Charlie brought to the Looking Glass. Jacob was demanding a sacrifice.

When Desmond and Claire reached the station they saw the hatch doors flung open and a light flickering from inside. For a moment he thought they were too late. Then they ran inside and found Locke was walking down the corridor with one hand resting on Charlie's back. As Desmond and Claire entered, they turned. Charlie was clutching Aaron to his chest. He looked pale and tired, his eyes slightly dazed from the pills that Jack had been feeding him. Locke however was very much alert. He took a gun from his belt and raised it at them.

"Stay back, Desmond…" Locke said sternly. "This is not something you're meant to interfere with. Charlie is _supposed_ to bring Aaron to this station. The island is telling him what needs to be done…"

Desmond shook his head. There was no reasoning with Locke when he entranced by fate. He had learned this when he had witnessed him smashing the computer which had caused the hatch implosion.

In desperation he turned to Charlie.

"Please brother…don't listen!" said Desmond. "This isn't the way to save Aaron. You're just putting him in danger!"

Charlie shook his head, his eyelids fluttering.

"I'm just gonna…Aaron just needs medicine and then…then he'll be okay. Then we can take him back to the beach…"

Charlie stepped into the room at the end of the corridor where the light was flickering. Inside this room there was a stainless steel table with a pneumatic injector lying on its surface, primed with a vial of dark yellow liquid. Charlie laid Aaron down gently on the tabletop, pulling the blanket away from his chest and then lifting the needle. Then he paused for a moment, staring at his reflection in the silver steel and frowning as though troubled by some lingering doubt.

"Charlie, please don't do this!" Claire begged.

Desmond took a step forward, but Locke raised the gun again.

"I _will_ kill you…" he threatened in a low voice.

"No, he won't," Claire spat with contempt. "That's what he said to Jack. He doesn't have the nerve, Desmond…"

Desmond nodded. He and Claire started to stride past Locke together. Then something happened that stopped them both in their tracks. Charlie threw the injector against the wall. It broke into pieces, its vial leaking over the floor. Charlie lifted Aaron from the table and backed out of the room.

"It's poison," he murmured. "Not medicine, _poison_…"

Charlie's voice trembled. His face was contorting with a ghastly realisation. And now Desmond understood why Charlie had been screaming and struggling when he was in the temple. He understood why Charlie had been crying and worrying over something he couldn't quite remember. Deep down Charlie knew what Jacob had been planning. He knew that Jacob would force him to offer Aaron as a sacrifice so that he could take his life and rise again. Charlie looked like he might be sick. He bowed his head with shame and passed Aaron back to Claire.

"I'm sorry…" he said, wretchedly.

Claire was too relieved for a moment to respond to Charlie's apology. She stroked Aaron's head and kissed him. Desmond started to lead Charlie and Claire away from the station when Locke called to them.

"No…wait…" he stuttered in confusion. "That can't be right...it can't! Jacob wouldn't want a baby to be poisoned. This is a test! Like God tested Abraham. I'm sure! It was fate that brought us all here tonight…"

Charlie wheeled around, his eyes blazing.

"Jacob wanted a sacrifice, Locke!" he raged. "He doesn't care if that sacrifice is me or Boone or an innocent baby! Jacob only cares about saving himself. It's got nothing to do with fate! Fate was a big _con_!

Locke looked as though he had been punched. When Charlie spoke the word 'con' his eyes filled with tears and he slowly sank to the ground. Desmond thought of the time that Charlie had called him a coward. He had an uncanny ability for choosing those words which cut straight through you. Locke let the gun slip from his hands and then huddled against the wall weeping. None of them went over to console him. They all turned their backs and left him there. Desmond didn't believe there was anything he could do for Locke. The man had followed fate so blindly, regardless of the victims it took. He would always have to shoulder the guilt of Boone's death, the friend he had sacrificed to the greedy soul of the island.

Claire walked several feet ahead of the two men as they made their way back to the beach. As they walked Desmond kept glancing at Charlie. Already he sensed a change in him. He seemed older and more troubled.

"You remember now, don't you?" he asked, tentatively.

Charlie nodded, though he kept his eyes lowered.

"How much?" Desmond probed.

"Too _bloody_ much," Charlie muttered.

Desmond sighed. "Well, it's a good thing that you did remember, brother," he said. "You saved that baby by remembering…"

Charlie scowled and shook his head. "Aaron wouldn't have been in any danger in the first place if it hadn't been for me!"

"You weren't doing it on purpose, you were…"

"It was still my sodding fault!" Charlie hissed.

Desmond caught hold of his arm and looked him in the face.

"Was it my fault you drowned in that station?" he asked.

Charlie seemed perplexed by the suggestion. "Of course not…it wasn't your fault, Des…Jacob was messing up your head with those flashes…"

"Well then," Desmond said pointedly.

Charlie nodded and fell silent. The two men stepped out onto the beach. Claire was already back at her shelter. She was tucking Aaron into his crib, looking lonely and vulnerable. Charlie watched her longingly.

"Don't make the same mistake I did, brother," Desmond told him quietly. "Don't turn away from her now. She won't turn away from you. She knows that you're a good man, Charlie. She still loves you."

Charlie smiled faintly and glanced at Desmond.

"You know, Penny loves you too, right?"

"What?" Desmond was startled. Suddenly he remembered how Charlie and Penny had spoken to each other before Mikhail had flooded the coms room. Desmond had spent many sleepless nights wondering what Penny had said. Now Charlie had regained his memory he finally had the chance to ask.

"The transmission…did Penny say that she…"

Charlie's smile lengthened. "Well, we didn't have much time for sweet nothings. But I could see it in her eyes, Des. I think you were right. She _is_ looking for you. One of these days she's gonna find you, mate…"

Desmond felt his head lightening and his heart fluttering in his chest. He allowed a contented smile to spill over his lips. Charlie gave him a short nod. He was about to leave and make his way over to Claire's tent when Desmond suddenly pulled him into a hug. He did it on a friendly impulse, but it wasn't until Desmond was in the embrace that he realised it was a very long time since he had hugged anyone. He smiled again, holding onto Charlie for a moment longer.

"It's good to have you back, brother…"

THE END


End file.
